And To Think
by NyanWolf
Summary: Newt died that day. When he jumped from the wall. And in those few moments he was drunk with pure joy. But then Minho happened. And he brought Newt back to a life he couldn't stand. And to think, he was so close...(One-Shot)


**I know, I know, I know. This is the most non-original thing I could have written about. But I think I was able to put enough of a twist on it to keep it interesting. So please give it a chance!**

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Newt didn't know when the seed of death had first been planted in his mind. He didn't know when it had begun to sprout. He couldn't even pinpoint the exact moment when it had blossomed into a beautiful, compelling, suicidal flower.

But now, from near the top of the maze wall, Newt knew he was about to water that flower. He smiled emptily. He leaned out into the breeze. His sick eyes were glossed over and a flicker of madness danced just behind his pupils. Forming ebony shapes that disintegrated just before you could make out what they were.

His blond hair ruffled in the wind. He breathed in greedily, sucking in as much fresh air as possible. It was so different here, from the heat of the Glade. The closeness of all the unwashed bodies, the heavy aroma of animals and copper from the blood house, the stress of finding a way out. It was smothering. But now he would be free.

Newt grinned.

A beetle blade scurried onto his arm and flew in front of his face. Newt faced it evenly. Slowly, he took a hand off the wall. He teetered, then put his fist up in front of the beetle blade's camera. He raised his middle finger. The beetle blade reared back and zoomed away angrily. Newt watched coldly.

Then he began to relax his other hand. His thumb first. Then a finger. And another. Until he was clutching onto the vines by only his pinkie. His heart lightened. He only hoped the others would forgive him.

His pinkie gave way. For a beautiful, terrifying moment, Newt was suspended mid-air. Then gravity slammed down on his back and he was hurtling down. Newt closed his eyes. He was beaming like an idiot. The air slipped around him. His arms flapped out slightly, like angel wings.

Newt became aware that he was flipping. His head went too far down, until he somersaulted in mid-air. He was falling in an pencil-dive. He was going to land the wrong way. He might live! Newt's eyes shot open in desperation. His mouth opened to scream in frustration. He hit the ground.

Pain exploded in his left leg. He had folded his right leg under him. A scream erupted from Newt's mouth. He lay there writhing. His hips were angled wrong. His back bounced and his head lolled to the side. Over and over, the pain swelled into waves and crashed into him. It suffocated him.

Searing whiteness obscured his vision. Newt screamed again. He bit down and his teeth tore into his lower lip. Blood was everywhere. It filled his throat. But he kept screaming.

He cried. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to fall on his head. It was supposed to be instant! Newt bawled his eyes out. But already, a cold numbness was settling into his limbs. His eyes rolled up in his skull.

Icy fingers rubbed against his face. They poked him and patted him. They closed his eyes. Newt suddenly saw a woman. She was bright white and almost translucent. But Newt could tell that her eyes were frosty blue and her hair was blonde. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. Newt felt like he was floating. He stood up.

His legs were healthy. He looked down and saw himself, bleeding on the ground. He laughed. He'd done it! He'd finally gone and bloody done it! The woman beckoned him. Newt jumped into her arms like a child. He hugged her and wept into her dress.

"Hello Newt."

"I knew it! I knew exactly what you would look like!" Newt clutched onto her tightly. She rubbed his back. A man walked up and hugged him from behind. Newt looked behind him and cried even harder. The man had wispy brown hair and warm brown eyes.

"You too! I always knew what you looked like too!"

The man smiled. Newt was hugging them both, pressed together between their bodies. And to think, he could have had this so long ago. Why had he waited so long? Newt laughed.

"I love you both, so much," He gasped.

"We love you too Newt," The woman breathed into his ear.

"I remember you! I really do! I remember everything!" Newt yelled happily. He did remember. Here, in this state, WICKED had no control over him. He remembered everything. A lifetime of birthdays and parties and hugs. There were bad things too.

Dark, traumatizing things that would have made Newt scream or cry if he hadn't felt so happy. He was dizzy with it. Lightheaded. He clasped the adults' hands in his own and sang a few random notes.

He let go and spun around drunkenly in a circle. For that's what he was. He was completely drunk with intoxicating joy. His eyes rolled around. Everything was so much more beautiful now. The maze wasn't scary anymore. Newt laughed.

There was a glorious tingling in his head. All he could feel was happiness and relief and pain and- Wait a second... Pain? Newt choked. He fell suddenly. The adults rushed to him. They picked him up. Newt looked over to his body, still on the ground.

Minho was crouched over it, pressing down on his chest. Newt shook his head. NO! Nononononono! Newt screamed at him.

"Stop it! Stop it! Can't you see I'm happy! This is what I wanted! Stop! Minho please stop!"

Newt was being sucked away from the people. He was being pulled back to his body. NO! NO! NO! He clawed at his parents. He hugged them one last time.

"Please no," He whispered. "I love you! Mom...Dad...please."

But he was hurtling toward his own body now. He slammed into it with great force. Newt opened his eyes to see Minho. It was the worst sight of his life. His memory was already fading. But his mind clung onto the images of his parents, hugging him. Already it seemed like a distant dream. The pain was slipping into him again.

Tears flowed down his cheeks. Minho was grinning.

"Newt! You're alive!" He exclaimed. Newt thought he might strangle Minho. His whole body shook from anger and blood and pain.

"Minho," He whispered. "Listen to me very closely."

Minho leaned in.

"You just saved my life," Newt grunted. "And you know what that means, shank?"

Minho was stoic. He leaned in even closer. Adrenaline pumped into Newt's system. But he already knew the terrible truth. He was going to live.

"You have condemned me to a fate worse than grievers. Worse than going down through the box. Worse than death!" Newt screamed the last word. Minho shook his head.

"Just take it easy Newt, just relax."

"I _was_ relaxed. Until you bloody woke me! I shucking hate you! I hate you!" Newt shrieked. Minho was already slinging him over his shoulder. Newt pounded on his friend's back with the last of his strength. He kept screaming.

"I hate you!"

Somewhere, a beetle blade was watching the scene. And through its eyes, a woman wearing all white was watching too. She smiled at the teenager next to her, wearing a lab coat. She raised a fist up, as if the injured boy in the maze could see her.

She raised her middle finger too. The boy next to her looked away from the scene.

"And to think," She said lightly, "He almost escaped us."

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 **Well? What do you think? I really hope I was able to differentiate it a bit. Please review!**

 **Wolf Out...**


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